Runaways
by Heavenly Pearl
Summary: Haruka and Michiru leave their old lives behind, starting on the road to their destinies.
1. Saying Goodbye

Saying Goodbye

She was nothing but a burden to her family.

Her parents would never say as much, of course. Haruka knew they loved her, but it was just simple math. With seven mouths to feed on the combined salary of an unsuccessful jazz pianist/mechanic and an avant garde artist who *_maybe* _sold one painting a month, if she was lucky, there just wasn't enough money to go around, not even with the extra earnings Haruka brought in from her racing.

It didn't help matters that in a few months she would be starting high school. Personally, she didn't care one way or the other if she continued with her studies or not. Haruka would have been perfectly happy quitting school and joining her father's auto shop as she pursued her dream of racing, but it had always been her father's dream for all of his kids to go to high school, something he had been unable to do, due to her mother's unplanned teenage pregnancy and the need to financially provide for his new family.

Sometimes, Haruka seriously thought it would have been better if she had never been born. If it wasn't for her, her parents would have been able to go on to high school, maybe even college, if they so wanted. Her father might have been able to seriously pursue a career in music, instead of just playing weekends at his friend's nightclub, and her mother could have studied to become an art teacher like she wanted before she got pregnant. They could have made something of themselves if it hadn't been for her.

One time when she was about twelve, while she was helping out at the shop after school, Haruka had told her father how she felt, how she blamed herself for the family's less-than-ideal financial situation. Tenoh Yoshiro was not one to lose his temper easily, but he had been furious when she confessed her true feelings. Haruka still remembered the hurt and anger in his voice as he yelled at her, telling her how he and her mother never once regretted the choices they had made in their lives, how happy she and her siblings made them. After that, she never mentioned it again, but his words did little to assuage her guilt.

That was why she threw herself so passionately into her racing. Haruka thought if she could contribute to the household funds, she would feel like less of a burden. It helped, a little, but her parents insisted on saving most of the money for her high school education, instead of using it to buy little Kasumi, her only sister, some actual girl's clothes, or buying a new couch for their living room to replace their old, ratty one. They only ever took enough of her money to get by, and even that had been a struggle.

_Well, no longer_, thought Haruka as she quietly packed her largest duffle bag, doing her best not to wake Kasumi, who was sleeping over in the next futon. If her parents refused to take her money to make a better life for the family, then she wouldn't give them a choice in the matter. She would not be a burden any more.

Opening the top drawer of her and Kasumi's shared dresser, Haruka pulled out the letter she received in the mail last week and looked at the return address. It was from a very wealthy racing aficionado, who was known for taking young, promising drivers under his wing, becoming their sponsor and mentor on their way to the top of the ranks. He had extended the invitation to Haruka, and, after a lot of serious thought, she had finally decided to take him up on the offer.

She did not discuss her decision with her family. She knew what would have happened if she had: her parents would have forbidden it, saying the Tenoh family did not accept charity, and her place was with her family.

So, Haruka was forced to sneak out in the middle of the night with only a couple of changes of clothes and a few treasured possessions, among them a picture of her family. She smiled sadly as she stuffed the letter in her back jeans pocket and reached for the lone picture frame sitting atop the dresser.

"Mama, Papa, Masuyo, Daiki, Kasumi, Takeshi…" As she whispered each one of their names, Haruka touched each of their faces in the photograph in turn. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "I'll miss you all, but this is something I have to do. It'll be better for everyone this way. Papa, I promise I'll go to high school somehow, so use my money and don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

Just then, Haruka heard Kasumi mumble something in her sleep. She froze in place, hoping her little sister wouldn't wake up and ask what she was doing. Luckily, Kasumi soon settled back down into a peaceful sleep. With a sigh of relief, Haruka placed the picture in her bag, zipped the bag up, then kneeled down beside Kasumi's futon, pulling the thin blanket she had kicked away during the night back up to her shoulders.

"See ya, kiddo," she said in a soft voice before standing back up and throwing her duffel bag over her shoulder.

It was well after midnight, so everybody else in the apartment was already asleep. Haruka fought back the urge to open the door to the boys' room as she passed by, not wanting to risk waking one of her younger brothers up. Instead, with the stealth of a ninja, she made her way to the living room in the dark, swearing under her breath when she accidentally stepped on one of Daiki's cheap plastic toy soldiers, which he had forgotten to put away, with her bare foot.

Finally, she made it to the front door. Letting out a sigh of relief, Haruka sat down and felt around for her favorite pair of beaten-up sneakers among the line of shoes in front of the door.

"Where are they?" she muttered to herself, wishing she had at least turned on a lamp. "I can't see a damn thing!"

Almost like magic, the room suddenly filled with a bright light, startling Haruka. She turned around to find her mother Suzume standing beside the light switch, fifteen-month-old Takeshi in her arms. Her little brother, upon seeing Haruka, stretched out his arms and happily cooed, "Nee! Nee!"

Her mother frowned. "Haruka-chan, what are you doing out of bed so late?" she asked. "Tonight's a school night."

"Uhh…" Haruka stood back up, trying to think of a suitable excuse, but unable to do so.

It was too late anyway. Her mother had already seen her duffel bag.

"Oh, Haruka-chan…"

"Don't try to talk me out of leaving," Haruka said, her voice shaking slightly in spite her best efforts. "I _have _to do this. It's for the best."

"But why?" Her mother came closer, her eyes, full of confusion, roving to Haruka's stomach, which was mostly hidden by the bulky, hooded fleece pull-over she wore. "Are you pregnant?"

If the situation wasn't so serious, Haruka might have laughed at the suggestion. Her? Pregnant? She had never even kissed a guy! Not that she ever had the urge. Boys simply did not interest her like they did other girls her age.

"No, I'm not pregnant, Mama. I'm not you."

That had been a low blow, and Haruka immediately regretted it. She would not have blamed her mother in the least had she slapped her, and she even steeled herself for the stinging blow, but her mother only pursed her lips together, setting Takeshi down to crawl on the floor while they talked.

"Where do you plan to go?" her mother asked.

Silently, Haruka reached for the letter inside her back pocket and handed it to her mother to read.

"This man…wants to be your patron?"

Haruka nodded. "He's offered to pay for everything I need: my tuition, living expenses, traveling costs to races --"

"In exchange for what, Haruka?" her mother interrupted. "Your body?"

"Mama, it's not like that at all. He does this for a lot of young racers."

"What do you even know about this man?"

"I know that he's rich, and he wants to help me make it to the big time," Haruka snapped, snatching the letter out of her mother's hands. Then, realizing how rude she must have sounded, she sighed. "I'll be fine," she declared. "Don't worry about me anymore. Focus on the others." She looked over at Takeshi, who was happily playing with Daiki's toy soldier, the one she had stepped on as she tried to sneak out, and smiled. "Things will be better around here when I'm not around. One less mouth to feed."

"How can you even say that? We love you, and we --"

Before her mother could finish, Haruka held up her hand, signaling her to stop. "I know, Mama," she said, "and thank you, but I have to go. It's more than just the money; I feel like something's pushing me to leave. I don't know if it is fate, or destiny, or whatever, but I can't ignore it. I have to find it, whatever it is, and I can't do that here. Can't you understand?"

For a long moment, her mother didn't say a word. Haruka found herself holding her breath, though she wasn't exactly sure why. After what seemed like an eternity, however, her mother bridged the gap between them and embraced Haruka, surprising her.

"Be happy, my Haruka-chan," her mother whispered. "That's all I ever wanted for you, and if you truly believe you can find that happiness somewhere else, then go with my blessings. But remember, no matter who you become, whether it's an F1 champion driver, a janitor, or something else entirely, your family will always love you."

"Mama…"

Haruka stayed in her mother's warm arms for a moment longer, then finally pulled away. She saw sadness in her mother's eyes, but there was something else, too -- pride. Haruka smiled, and, after putting on her shoes and grabbing her duffle bag, she turned to leave.

"Good-bye, Mama," she said as she walked out the door, the cool night breeze ruffling her hair.

Good-bye, old life.

Hello, new.

DISCLAIMER: _Sailor Moon_ is the property of Takeuchi Naoko.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This was written for the sm_monthly community at Livejournal (Theme: Burden).


	2. Breaking Free

Breaking Free

She was tired of holding up the illusion of being the perfect daughter.

For as long as Michiru could remember, her parents had expected her to be the best at everything she tried. An A-minus was never good enough, a "good job" considered settling when she could have done "great," or even "fantastic." The phrase "second-best" was akin to the naughty words Michiru liked to indulge in using when out of earshot of her parents or tutors. She had to be the prettiest, the smartest, and the most talented at all times, and she hated it.

Why couldn't she be like the other girls her age, so happy and carefree even with the high school entrance exams approaching like the coming of the Apocalypse? Somehow, they managed to balance their school life with their social life; Michiru had no social life at all, unless she counted the boring society parties her parents forced her to attend. In fact, if asked who her friends were, Michiru wouldn't be able to give a single name. She didn't have friends; she had "acquaintances."

"It's not fair, it's just not fair," she muttered to herself after school one day as she changed out of her school shoes and into a pair of flats.

Mentally, Michiru ran through her schedule for the rest of the day. She was expected to come home straight after school, of course; there was no time for joining any school clubs in the busy life of Kaioh Michiru. At four o'clock, she had violin practice, followed at six by a private tutor who was preparing her for the entrance exams. Dinner was served promptly at seven and usually lasted until eight or so. Afterwards, it was time to finish up any homework she had left after her tutoring session, as well as read at least a chapter of an "enrichment" novel of her father's choice. If she managed to finish before ten, she was granted a bit of free time to do whatever she liked, a rare occurrence. Come ten o'clock, though, Michiru was expected to prepare for bed, following the stringent beauty routine her mother had set out for her, which included brushing her hair a hundred times each night for maximum shine and putting on a horrid-smelling face mask.

It was all just so…dull. Even her violin lessons, something she used to take such pleasure in, had become a chore for her. Michiru longed for excitement, something to break the monotony of her boring life. For once, she wanted to do something wild and crazy, something the perfect daughter of her parents would never do.

Michiru sighed and shook her head as she exited the S.S. Private School for Girls. Like that would ever happen. She always thought about the scandalous things she would do if she had the chance, but, in the end, she never did them, too cowardly to ever disobey her parents that way.

On her walk home from school, Michiru decided to take the scenic route, which took her right past Tokyo Bay, instead of her normal way home. It was about as rebellious as she ever allowed herself to get. Taking the longer route meant she would arrive home ten minutes later than usual, cutting it close for her violin lessons, but there was something about the water that always managed to calm her.

That day was different, though. It almost felt as if the sea was calling out to her. For once crazy second, Michiru actually considered stripping off all her clothes and jumping into the water for a swim, but she quickly came to her senses, realizing that getting arrested for indecent exposure would be going a little too far in her quest for rebellion, even though seeing the look on her parents' faces would have been priceless. With some reluctance, she pulled herself away from the beauty of the bay and continued on home.

When she finally arrived, Michiru was surprised to hear her mother talking -- actually, more like yelling -- to somebody on the phone. Normally, her mother would be upstairs in her room, taking a mid-afternoon nap. Michiru set her book bag on the couch and gave her mother a quizzical look, wondering what was going on.

"Yes, see that you do that. Good-bye," her mother said at the end of her conversation, setting the phone back in its cradle with all the force of a sumo wrestler. "Honestly, why I even bother using them… Oh, Michiru, dear. You're home."

"Okaa-sama, who was that on the phone?" Michiru asked.

"Oh, the agency." Her mother sighed and rubbed at her right temple. "I had to fire Ayu-san today. That girl was no good, no good at all. Unfortunately, the agency can't send me another maid until tomorrow, so it looks like we'll be going out to dinner tonight. Oh, I do hope we can still get a reservation at _Umi's_ at such late notice."

Michiru resisted the urge to roll her eyes as her mother again reached for the phone to call the restaurant. She should have known. Her mother changed maids more often than most people changed their underwear. If a maid lasted more than a week at the Kaioh residence, it was considered a miracle. Poor Ayu had only lasted three days.

"Oh, by the way, Michiru, you got a letter in the mail today," her mother said, waving her free hand toward the pile of mail sitting on the coffee table. "From a Watanabe-san, I bel-- Oh, yes, this is Kaioh Mariko. I'd like to make a reservation tonight for seven?"

Taking the letter, Michiru left her mother and headed upstairs to change out of her school uniform and warm up for her lessons. Since her teacher would be arriving soon, she left the letter unread on her desk to read later at her leisure.

Her lessons were as dull as always. Not for the first time, Michiru felt as if her violin teacher was holding her back. She was far more advanced than the music he kept giving her to play, and, indeed, the teacher found little to critique, but he still kept assigning her the easier pieces anyway, frustrating her. Her school tutoring wasn't much better. She had always been a good student, so Michiru never understood why her parents felt the need to keep paying ridiculous amounts of money to have somebody come over after school to teach her things she already knew.

Luckily, though, since they were going out for dinner, her mother dismissed the tutor earlier than usual so that Michiru would have time to dress. Heading back upstairs to change, Michiru remembered the letter from earlier and immediately opened it as soon as she entered her bedroom.

Michiru had expected it to be a fan letter from one of her admirers, but her eyes widened in shock as she sat down on her bed and read. Mr. Watanabe, as it turned out, was a wealthy elderly gentleman who had taken an acute interest in her budding career as a concert violinist. In fact, he was so interested that he wanted to become her patron, to provide her with all her living expenses, including her own apartment, as well as to help advance her career. As a major contributor to the Tokyo Philharmonic, he felt he had the right connections to ensure she had a bright future ahead of her.

Michiru couldn't believe her eyes, reading the letter a second and third time before it truly sunk in. Though logically she knew she should be a little suspicious of the offer -- for all she knew, he could be a mass murderer or a child molester -- she somehow knew the letter was the key to her destiny, and her heart leapt for joy. Finally, she could step out from underneath her parents' well-meaning, but stifling, expectations and live her life on her own terms. It was like a dream come true!

A knock on the door brought Michiru back down to Earth. "Michiru, dear, are you ready to go?" her mother called out.

Quickly, Michiru stuffed the letter back into the envelope and hid it underneath one of her pillows. What was she thinking? Her parents would never in a million years allow her to live on her own, not when she wasn't even fifteen years old.

Yet…

Almost as if possessed by somebody else, Michiru reached for her bathrobe and threw it on over her clothes. She then opened the door, grimacing and clutching her side as if it pain.

"Michiru, why aren't you dressed yet?" her mother asked, tapping the face of her elegant diamond watch. "Our reservation at _Umi's_ is at seven. After the strings I had to pull to get it, I don't want to be late."

"I don't think I can go out tonight, okaa-sama," Michiru said, letting out a low moan for extra effect. "It's my time of the month, and the cramps are really bad this time. I can barely walk. You and otou-sama go on without me."

Her mother frowned. "I don't think that is such a good idea. What will you do for dinner? Ayu-san is no longer here."

"I'll make myself a sandwich or something. I'll manage."

"Well, I suppose that will be fine," her mother acquiesced, though she didn't look too happy about it. Her parents never liked leaving her alone in the house, especially when they were in between maids to spy on her and make sure she was doing what she was supposed to be doing. "Your father and I should be home by eight-thirty, so I expect you to be done with most of your homework by the time we get back. No fooling around while we're gone, young lady."

"Yes, okaa-sama."

With that, her mother headed back downstairs, and Michiru closed her bedroom door, taking a deep breath to calm down her pounding heart. She couldn't believe what she had done! What was she thinking? Never in her life had she so blatantly lied to one of her parents, yet she felt surprisingly…light.

Before she could lose her courage, Michiru lugged out her largest suitcase and began tossing in whatever she could fit inside with little rhyme or reason. Other than her violin, she couldn't care less about her other things. She packed a few changes of clothes, her textbooks, and her sheet music, but decided the rest she could live without. She then grabbed the letter, her violin, and her cosmetics case and headed downstairs.

The house was incredibly silent. Even though she knew her parents had already left for the restaurant, Michiru found herself tip-toeing down the stairs, being as quiet as possible. When she got to the living room, she called a cab service to order a taxi to come pick her up, then took a seat on the leather couch, anxiously drumming her fingers against the armrest as she waited.

_I can't believe I'm really doing this_, Michiru thought. It wasn't like her at all, yet, somehow, it felt right, like it was destiny or something. She felt the same kind of feeling she experienced earlier that day, when she had felt herself being pulled toward Tokyo Bay.

However, as she looked around the room and her eyes landed a picture of her mother, her father, and herself on the end table beside her, some of Michiru's excitement ebbed, and she sighed, reaching for the solid gold picture frame. No matter how much she hated the expectations they put on her shoulders, Michiru had always loved her parents, knowing that, at heart, they only wanted what was best for her. How could she leave them without even a proper good-bye? She could just imagine how frantic they would be if they came home from the restaurant and found her gone with no explanation.

Michiru couldn't do that to them. She just couldn't.

So, grabbing the pad beside the phone used to take down messages, Michiru jotted down a short note to her parents, explaining about the letter and assuring them that she would be fine. She wanted to say more, to tell them how much she appreciated everything they had done for her, even if she didn't always act like it, but the cab arrived before she could finish. Ending the note with a quick "I love you," she propped it up against the picture frame where she was certain her parents would find it.

"Good-bye, otou-sama, okaa-sama," she said, kissing the tips of her fingers and pressing them against their faces in the family portrait.

Michiru then grabbed her suitcase and left.

She had broken free.

DISCLAIMER: _Sailor Moon_ is the property of Takeuchi Naoko.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This was written for the sm_monthly community at Livejournal (Theme: Illusion).


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